


Fish Tanks & Breathing

by wisia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Aquariums, Fish, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2716106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve didn’t expect to find a giant fish tank in the tower. He also didn’t expect to find Tony playing on a piano by it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fish Tanks & Breathing

**Author's Note:**

> SteveTony (can be gen really). To be honest, I just haven’t been in the mood for writing the past week. Felt as if all my energy got zapped. Which is bad because I need to write a JayTim fic for the batfamily Christmas exchange. But then I saw this set of images
> 
> (http://theartofanimation.tumblr.com/post/103241573021/nomiya)
> 
> and I couldn’t resist. The lovely colors and how dreamy it was. And so I ended up writing Steve and Tony. Kind of ridiculous but yeah. My writing style here feels way too wordy. Anyway, enjoy.

The water was sea green, luminescent in the light of the moon that came down from several artfully placed skylights above. It was an aquarium that stretched from one end of the wall to the next in a bold curve. Various fishes of different bright colors and species took center stage, dazzling and stunning as they swam in the large open space. It was an amazing sight, but it didn’t take Steve’s breath away. What did was the grand baby piano in ivory at the far left of the enormous tank and the man who sat there.

                Music notes tinkled in slowly, graceful and delicate as if to not disturb the fishes’ peaceful twirls and rounds in the water. Tony Stark was playing and that just stole Steve’s breath away completely. Then there was a sudden misstep, a key wrong and another. And another. Tony slammed his palms flat down, crushing the black and white into a terrible discordant sound that scared all the fishes away from his immediate vicinity.

                “Damnit,” Tony growled softly, obviously frustrated. He shook his hands and tried again but his fingers shook and even though the melody started out fine Steve could see it wasn’t going to last. Steve cringed as another wail of mismatch notes struck the air and permanently scared the fishes from ever nearing the piano.

                “I’m not an expert,” Steve said, unable to keep himself from walking into the room because it was exactly like a magnet the way he was pulled toward him.  “But smashing the keys probably doesn’t help.”

                Tony looked up, jerky in his movement, hands out and palm ready to fire a blast that wasn’t available. Then, he stared at Steve as if he was just waking up and still caught in the throngs of a dream.

                “St—oh,” Tony said and shook his head. He visibly relaxed a notch. “It’s you.”

                “It’s me,” Steve agreed, studying the shadows and the way the moonlight caught in Tony’s hair and beautiful brown eyes. He settled himself carefully against the piano, leaning in as casual a pose as he could pull off. Though it still wouldn’t be half a nice as Tony and all his pose perfectness even when moving. Steve inclined his head at the piano he rested against. “Didn’t know you could play.”

                And as he eyed the lone orange fish that crept back behind Tony, obviously a brave fish, he added, “or that you had a fish tank.”

                Tony huffed, raking a hand through his messy hair.

                “Eccentric billionaire. Have to have a fish tank or three. Besides, Pepper thought I needed something living to keep me company. Can’t imagine why. I have robots already.”

                Tony was babbling, enough that Steve almost missed how his hands still shook just the slightest. Tactfully, Steve ignored it for now. He took a playful stab at Tony instead.

                “Have to agree with you there. I’m amazed they’re still living.”

                “You wound me,” Tony said as JARVIS interrupted with, “That is because Sir does not maintain their upkeep personally.”

                “Not supposed to be saying stuff like that J,” Tony said mildly. “But yeah. I would probably have killed them if I’d tried. All of this is the best money can buy and what I have improved—filters, everything. The works.”

                “I see,” Steve said slowly, a little conflicted at how easy Tony spent his money, but blinked. “Is that—is that a jellyfish?”

                Tony followed Steve’s gaze to the spot behind him. The brave orange fish had deserted its spot and a lovely jellyfish floated along, occupying the space. It was nearly see through and the moonlight only enhanced its translucent features.

                “Yup,” Tony said and turned back to Steve. “But that’s now that you’re here for. What’s up, Cap? No more bags to punch? How did you manage to get to this floor?”

                Steve flushed and was maybe just a bit defensive as he answered. “You said we could wander and explore the tower, and I heard music…”

                Tony snorted. “I wouldn’t call that music.”

                Steve raised an eyebrow at Tony in disbelief.

                “No, really,” Tony said and looked down at the keys with a sardonic smile. “Haven’t been able to play properly in a few years now, give or take.”

                “I think you play just fine,” Steve said a little roughly. Tony’s cheeks seemed a tad darker then but he wasn’t sure if it was actually a blush or not in the dim lighting. Tony flexed his fingers thoughtfully.

                ‘You haven’t heard me play. From before,” Tony clarified. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed together just the slightest, puzzled. Before? What was before?

                Tony tapped the glass of the tank. It didn’t scare the jellyfish away, but Steve connected the pieces. The water.

                “Why have a fish tank at all?”

                “Torture. Stupidity. Pleasing Pepper. I don’t know. Hundreds of answers. Thousands of choices. Take your pick, Steve.”

                “Tony.”

                “What?” Tony snapped back. “I’m fine. Just can’t play.”

                “You’re shaking,” Steve said quietly, finally drawing attention to what he noticed earlier.

                “I—I am,” Tony admitted, almost painfully. Then, “it’s not the water like you were thinking. I just can’t…let it go.”

                And there was a sort of amusement to his lips as Tony said that, as if there was an inside joke but—

                “What do you mean you can’t let it go?”

                Tony pressed a finger to his temples. He looked wearied as if all the crow feet at the corner of his eyes and the lines of his face weighted down on him like never before.

                “Think too fast. Tinkering unwinds me but playing lets me breathe. Really breathe.”

                Steve could imagine it. Getting lost in the music, in each note and just throwing yourself into it with everything you got as the world around you disappear.

                “Why not?” Steve asked. “You did it before, right?”

                Tony looked a little sad as he answered. “I can’t get past making mistakes. I can hear how uneven and choppy my playing is, feel it even as I press each key.”

                He stood abruptly. “Anyway, playtime’s over. Got to get back to work and all that. You have fun staring at the fish. I need a shark in there or something. Maybe a tiny one.”

                Steve clamped a hand down Tony’s shoulder without even thinking.

                “Please,” Steve said. “One more song and forget about the shark.”

                “I can’t,” Tony refused. “I’ll mess it up?”

                “So?”

                Tony glared at him balefully. Steve gently steered him back to the bench.

                “If you miss up, just keep going. If you don’t, you’ll never get past it.”

                Tony tilted his head up at him, a frown on his face.

                “Steve, I don’t really—“

                “Just play.”

                Tony lifted his fingers and paused, hesitant. Steve rested his hands on Tony’s shoulders, and Tony finally placed his fingers down. Tony played and it was smooth. Then, a misstep and another. And another. Steve didn’t let him go.

                “Keep going.”

                And Tony did until the notes even out and the tremors in his hands disappeared. Steve was breathing, and Tony was too. They both could breathe in that space as the music drifted around them and the fishes swam in the sea green water.


End file.
